REFLEXIONES

El Paraíso, June 9, 2026

QUITO AND THE GOSSIPING COMADRES

BETWEEN 1993 AND 1997, DURING MY TENURE as Director of the Getty Conservation Institute (GCI), I traveled three or four times to Quito to negotiate and advance a project that we hoped would provide the city with a renewed and dignified infrastructure for its Historic Center, thereby revealing to residents and visitors alike the extraordinary colonial architecture that constitutes one of Ecuador’s greatest cultural treasures.

Before my involvement, Neville Agnew, Jane Slate Siena, Mahasti Afshar, Rosalía Navarro, Ignacio Moreno, Mario Bravo, and Jaime Ortiz Lajous had laid the groundwork for collaboration between the GCI and the Municipality of Quito through the Fundación Caspicara. Their efforts established the framework upon which a remarkable partnership would be built.

THE PROJECT FOCUSED PRIMARILY ON THE HISTORIC CENTER MASTER PLAN and on the legal, political, and social measures necessary to address one of Quito’s most difficult challenges: the thousands of street vendors who had gradually occupied the city’s historic core. Their stalls had transformed streets, plazas, and avenues surrounding some of the most important monuments of the colonial city, overwhelming public spaces and obscuring the architectural heritage they were meant to showcase.

Yet the situation was far from simple. The vendors constituted a powerful political force, and previous administrations had repeatedly failed to relocate them. They were deeply woven into the economic fabric of the city. Residents and tourists alike relied on them, and the vendors depended on those daily transactions for their livelihood. Any solution would have to reconcile heritage conservation with economic survival.

Quito’s Historic Center is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and holds the singular distinction of being the first capital city in the world to receive that designation, in 1978. The city earned this honor because of the remarkable preservation of its historic center, one of the largest and least altered colonial urban ensembles in the Americas.

Among Quito’s most celebrated features are its architectural monuments and its unique artistic heritage. The city gave rise to the renowned Quito School of Baroque Art, a distinctive synthesis of Spanish, Italian, Moorish, Flemish, and Indigenous influences. More than 130 monumental structures, together with dozens of churches, monasteries, and convents, including San Francisco and La Compañía de Jesús, famed for its dazzling gold-leaf interior, form an urban landscape of exceptional cultural significance.

MANY COUNTRIES HAD PROVIDED TECHNICAL EXPERTISE and financial assistance for the restoration of monuments, but few possessed either the patience or the determination to confront the social challenges that had become inseparable from the city’s historic fabric. The Getty Conservation Institute chose to undertake that challenge.

During those years I had the privilege of working closely with Mayor Rodrigo Paz, an extraordinary public servant who initiated the transformation of Quito’s Historic Center, and later with his successor, Jamil Mahuad.

Elected mayor in 1992, Mahuad earned widespread public admiration for improving the quality of life in Quito’s poorest neighborhoods. His administration brought potable water, sewage systems, paved streets, sports facilities, community centers, and green spaces to underserved communities. He initiated the creation of the Metropolitan Park, built the city’s new zoo, completed Quito’s ring road, and spearheaded the revitalization of the Historic Center.

HIS ACHIEVEMENTS EARNED HIM THE TITLE “MAYOR OF CULTURE.” Under his leadership, the City Museum was inaugurated in the former San Juan de Dios Hospital, one of the oldest hospitals in the Americas. To demonstrate his personal commitment to the revitalization effort, he established the Casa de los Alcaldes in a restored historic building adjacent to Independence Square and even took up residence there himself. He also conceived and implemented “August, Month of the Arts,” an innovative cultural program unique in Latin America.

For four years we worked tirelessly alongside his administration; sadly in 1997 our formal involvement in Quito came to an end, once our project was completed.

One small anecdote from those years remains especially vivid. Rosalía and I discovered that the chef at the hotel where the GCI team stayed was Swiss and had a particular fondness for Swiss wines. To our delight, he had included on the wine list a superb Fendant, a wine rarely found outside Switzerland and one for which I had developed a lasting affection during our years in Geneva while working with the United Nations.

The chef immediately noticed that someone had ordered his treasured wine. Delighted to find appreciative customers, he agreed to reserve bottles exclusively for our use, not only during that visit but for all our future stays in Quito. We exhausted his supply, I am happy to report.

It was during one of those visits that local television devoted endless coverage to the slow-moving pursuit of O. J. Simpson along the Los Angeles freeways after he had been identified as a suspect in the murder of his former wife and one of her friends. Even in Quito, the spectacle was inescapable and a strange reminder of our home city.

Over time, Mayor Mahuad and I developed a warm friendship. During my final visit to Quito in 1997, accompanying Getty President Harold Williams and Museum Director John Walsh on a Projects Visit, Mayor Mahuad generously presented me with a clay maquette of a sculpture known as El Florón, a typical Ecuadorian children’s game.

Ordinarily, the story would have ended here.

HOWEVER, A YEAR AFTER WE HAD LEFT, IN 1998, MAHUAD RAN FOR PRESIDENT of Ecuador. After winning the first round of voting, he prevailed in the runoff election and assumed the nation’s highest office.

His presidency, unfortunately, followed a very different trajectory from his mayoralty. His administration intensified the neoliberal policies of preceding governments and presided over the devastating economic crisis of 1999. During that period, millions of Ecuadorians lost their savings following the banking freeze known as the “bank holiday,” a measure intended to rescue financial institutions whose owners had been among his principal political supporters.

Public outrage mounted steadily. Demonstrations intensified until, in January 2000, a coalition of Indigenous organizations and dissident military officers removed Mahuad from office and transferred power to Vice President Gustavo Noboa. Mahuad subsequently left for the United States and became a Professor at Harvard University.

In later years, he faced legal proceedings related to his role in the economic crisis. A graduate of Harvard University’s Kennedy School of Government, where he had earned a master’s degree in 1979, he pursued an academic career and served as a fellow at various institutions. In Ecuador, however, he was convicted of embezzlement and sentenced to eight years in prison, a judgment upheld by the National Court of Justice. Owing to the profound economic and social consequences of his administration, he is often regarded as one of the least successful presidents in Ecuador’s modern history.

Yet the little maquette of El Florón, which he generously gave me before his presidency, has a story entirely its own.

THIS ORIGINAL WORK WAS CREATED BY MARCIA VÁSCONEZ ROLDÁN, an Ecuadorian visual artist and recipient of the prestigious Mariano Aguilera Prize in 1986. Her sculptures can be found in public spaces throughout Ecuador, including Quito, Guayaquil, Loja, Ambato, and Puyo.

Educated at the Faculty of Arts of the Central University of Ecuador, Vásconez was influenced by her teacher César Bravomalo and deeply admired the work of Auguste Rodin. Her sculpture El Florón won the Mariano Aguilera Prize and brought her national recognition. Several years later, Mayor Mahuad commissioned a monumental version of El Florón as a public artwork, after which the artist created a series of related sculptures sharing similar themes and stylistic qualities, many of which remain installed throughout the city.

For Vásconez, public sculpture must embody the history, customs, and identity of the Ecuadorian people. Her works foster a powerful sense of collective ownership; citizens identify so strongly with them that it is difficult to imagine those urban spaces without their presence.

Among her most notable works are El Florón (1992) in Benjamín Carrión Park, Quito; La Ronda (1992) in Villaflora Park, Quito; Las Bañistas (1993) in Cumbayá; Saraguros (1996) in Loja; Carabelas de Colón (1997) in Guayaquil; Homenaje al Artesano de Balsa (1999) in Puyo; Homenaje al Maestro (2002) in La Salvación, Manabí; and Juego de Niños (2012) in Ambato.

For many years, and in many cities, our maquette of El Florón has occupied a place of pride in our home. It remains a gracious reminder of those unforgettable adventures—of art and politics, of conservation and Swiss wine, and above all of the remarkable, generous, stimulating, and enduring friendships that accompanied them.